Running Home
by aej325
Summary: Sam Pulaski: FBI agent, mother of two, and Sammy Keyes all grown up. Wisdom may come with age, but it hasn't helped Sam keep out of trouble. So when that trouble turns to tragedy and death, Sam does the only thing she can - she begins "Running Home."
1. Fiction Is Reality

Title: _Running Home  
_Author: Andie, =D  
Rating: **PG-16+**  
Summary: Sammy Keyes, who now goes by Sam Pulaski, moves back to her home town after tragedy strikes her and her family in Washington D.C.  
*****Warning*****: May have **spoilers**, **violence**, **sexual themes**, and **harsh **language.  
Author's Note: I think this is going to be one of my favorite stories I've ever written, yes I'm that confidant in it. Well, I don't know how much you'll like it but I know I'm going to like it. Also If I chose to do any M rated scenes all cut them out and make them little one-shots, you would be able to find them by clicking on my Pen Name: _**AEJ325**_.  
Fic Type: Future Fiction (14-ish years)  
Story Disclaimer: All characters of the Sammy Keyes series belong the Wendelin Van Draanen. I do own Cesca & Tony Pulaski, Bryant Keyes, the Riley family, Zack, Chloe Sable, and the Fitzhugh sisters. Possibly more character you aren't familiar with too…

_**(5-11-08) EDIT: I have re-written the story, I have the second chapter written also and am partway into the third. I will have this story finished for you guys by the start of my school year. If I were you I would re-read this, I changed some things.**_

***NEW* (4/4/09) EDIT: **_**Okay, first: HOLY SHIT! It's almost been a year! Damn! Now, besides that… I've updated each chapter. Though one my not have a lot of changes, another may. Most of it are little details (some key) and grammar mistakes. Granted, you may just want to re-read b/c you're completely forgotten what this fic was even about – what with me not updating in almost a friggin' **__**year**__**. **_

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**Chapter One**: _La finzione è la Realtà_

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(**Prologue**)

Gunfire sounded to the left of Special Agent Sam Pulaski, in the same area where her ex-partner was, and was soon followed by a string of curses.

"Oh man, oh man. Sam. Sam, I'm hit. Christ." Sam's task team member panted, drops of perspiration appearing on his head as he clutched his bloodied chest.

Sam couldn't spare a look at her old partner at the risk of both their lives. She had to take out the shooter, but before she could shoot him she had to locate the son of a bitch who had just shot her partner of seven years.

_Pop! Pop!_

Two more bullets were fired from Sam's left. One of the bullets zipped by her cheek, slightly grazing it; the other implanted itself in her thigh. "Shit." Sam whirled as best she could on one leg in the direction of the sound, her gun in a firing position.

She couldn't feel the majority of the pain caused by the bullet quite yet, but she knew that once her adrenalin slowed she would be in hell.

The only sound now was Tony's shallow gasps of air as Sam looked for any sign of the shooter.

And _there_ it was!

A shadow moved behind one of the warehouse's wooden crates and showed a body. Sam emptied her gun into the body of the person who she believed to have shot her and Tony.

Pressing on hand onto her bleeding leg, Sam limped over to her fallen team mate and husband, "Tony? Oh, Jesus."

Tony gripped her hand that she had placed on his cheek, "You – you okay SammyGirl?"

Sam wanted to smile at the old endearment he always called her but couldn't bring it to her face, "Ya, I'm fine honey. You're going to be too. Everything is fine."

"I'm not. You, you know it, I know, it." He breathed out hard, coughing as he spoke, "Tell, tell, Franny. Tell her, that, that I love her. An' Bry, and Bry too." He closed his eyes, "Sammy. Sammy – "

" – don't Tony, please. Don't." Sam said leaning into him. Tony was her lifeline, the closest thing she'd ever felt love was with Tony, "I can't lose you Tony. I can't."

"Sammy, I love, love you SammyGirl." Tony sighed and laid his head back.

"No. No Tony, wake up! Tony, Tony, please! Tony!" Sam cried hysterically, tugging her arms around him, "Please Tony. Wake up, _please_."

"Anth! Sam! Were the hell are – oh shit. Sam? Kenly get those M.E.s here. Stat!" Special Agent Zane Riley yelled back at his team mate. "Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit! Sam? Sam?"

All Zane could see was two of his team mates, two of his _closest _friends, his fucking sister and her husband for Christ's sake were on the floor with a massive pool of blood surrounding them. "Christ. Jesus H. Christ."

(**End Prologue**)

--

_one year and three months later_

_--_

"Bry, could you please open the door for me?" Sam puffed out her question trying to keep the two boxes that held her good china from falling out of her slowly weakening arms.

"'Ight." Bryant sat the lamp shade he was caring down and open the door.

"Thank you, baby-cakes." Sam sighed as she moved to walk in her new house.

She still couldn't believe it, she had bought a house. In her hometown no less. God she was going crazy. She had bought the house out on a whim, she had yet to see the condition of it on the inside and that scared the hell out of her. She'd once seen the inside of the house years ago when dared to enter it, she'd fallen in love then… but what if it had changed? What if she had bought a horribly run down house? What if it would never be fixable? What if –

"Dear Lord." All her previous thoughts were thrown out the window as she stepped into her house's entry way.

The front room was in a small ovalish shape, straight ahead was a archway going into a dining room, and to the right was a slightly rickety looking staircase. To her left was a swinging door that Sam assumed led to the kitchen that she had heard so much about. Apparently it was all remodeled, complete new age stuff. Not that she was someone who needed a kitchen, she had never really moved past her microwavable food stage.

"Hello? Hell_ooooo_? Anybody here?" Called a creaky old voice from behind Sam.

Sam turned to see a woman about sixty-five who stood in the doorway. She had brightly red colored hair with a dark bush decorating her cheeks and a deep green covering her eyelids. The woman was a petite lady with a well proportioned body and stood at about 4'7 at least 15" shorter than Sam herself.

Seeing the elderly woman immediately brought to mind the _Golden Girls_.

"Hello there deary, I'm Mrs. Geraldine Fitzhugh. Though you must call me Miss Geraldine. I live next door to you deary. Just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. My sister, Bernice, and I live right across the street next to the young cop. Lived here all our lives we have, all our lives. Course, Bernie left a bit for to try her hand at a family. Didn't get to far, deadbeat husband left her. Noticed the little girl playing with the doggies I did, is she yours? You don't look like you're old enough to have a child honey. How old are you –"

"Mom! Yo, Mom, _Mooomm_ – Oh, hey Mom. Can I go and pick my room now?" Bryant asked not noticing the elder woman standing in the door way.

Sam ran a hand through her messy long purplish auburn hair, "Um, sure thing Bry. You can't have the master bedroom though, so don't even think about it mister!" Sam yelled after him as he ran up the stairs, "I'm sorry about him Mrs. … _Miss_ Geraldine. We haven't quite settled in yet. Maybe you could come by later?"

"He's yours too? My, my, haven't you been busy? Where's your husband deary? He must be a deadbeat too. All men are, well except the cop boy next door. He's a mighty fine boy. Always coming over to chat," Miss Geraldine shook her head and bunched up her nose making her look somewhat like a pug with too much skin and not enough fat.

Sam felt like a kid again when she had to face the nuns when she was forced to help out at the church. "Yes, Bryant is mine. Cesca is my child also. Now Miss Geraldine I really must insist that you come back later; _when we are settled in_." Sam's face had turned stubborn, refusing to give any more information so that she could be the star in the gossip that the old hens spread around like wildfire.

"Alright then, tell me your name first deary. And where you came from of course." Miss Geraldine stood her ground at the door refusing to let Sam lead her out of the house before she gained the information.

"My name is Sam Pulaski and my children and I have just moved here from Washington D.C. now if you'll please excuse me. I have to unpack." Sam stated as she shooed the old lady out of her home.

Miss Geraldine held her place, "Sam? That's short for Samantha yes? Such a sophisticated name, why on earth would you butcher a nice, beautiful name like that? Sam is so… manly. Then again, back in my days I was called Geri. Wasn't a manly thing about me though – just ask those boys who I used to – "

"That's quite interesting." Sam shooed the woman out more, finally getting her out of the entry way and onto the porch, "I've got to be getting my kids some food."

"Oh, you cook? So does the cop boy, cooks a mean streak. He has cookouts every now and then with his acquaintances, brings whatever is left over to me and Bernie. Mr. Truffles sure does like them. I'll have him bring something over some time. He looks about your age. Why with that deadbeat husband of yours gone you two would be perfect together."

Sam just blinked in response to the rapid fire of words. _Please help me lord_. Sam could break down hardened criminals but she couldn't get a little old lady to leave her home.

"Hey Mom! Phone," Sam could hardly contain her sigh of relief at her oldest child's voice, "its Zane. He said he wants to make sure everything is cool." Bryant walked out onto the porch with the house phone in his hand.

The very same house phone that had yet to be connected.

"We'll have to speak later Miss Geraldine." Sam said shutting the front door in the poor old woman's face.

When Sam's laugh reached her son's ears and he couldn't have been happier. His mom's laugh was as rare as the giant squid nowadays. Nowadays being everyday since Tony had died. Gods, did he miss Tony. Bryant had only ever had his mom as a parent, while she was the best thing in his world, Bryant had always wondered what a Dad would be like. He had never had another before Tony, and he often wanted to wish he had never met Tony. Never loved him. But Bryant could never wish that. If he did he wouldn't have his little sister, Francesca, he wouldn't have the life he had and he would never give that up.

"Good gosh, Bry. That was good, really good." Sam swung an arm around her son's neck, "I think we're gonna like it here Bry. I know I did. Had some fun times," She turned and looked into her son's face, damn if he didn't look like his father when he was that age. "Bry."

"Yah?" he asked looking out into the green yard, watching his little sister play with the dogs.

"When the hell did you get to be so tall? You've had to have grown three, four inches…" His mother asked in that blunt way she had always had with him.

Bryant smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist in a response, "Maybe you're just shrinking. You are getting up there in the ages Mom." Giving her a quick peck on the cheek before releasing her and opening the front door.

"Bryant Case Keyes! Don't you dare disrespect me you little monstrous child!" She yelled as he ran down the porch steps and picked Cesca up in a swoop, "And bring the crew in, its time to unpack and eat! We're ordering out!"

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**_All responses will be appreciated - ha, probably didn't spell that right. Which brings up the subject of spelling. Me? Not to fantastic in the particular department._**

**_- Andie_**


	2. Of Memories and Hardships

**_- Wow. That's really all I can say - well, sorry too. It's been a long time. Very, very long. I've gotten back in my groove, now. And for those who know - or care - my ACL is almost healed! So now that my drama and school has (almost) ended I can get back to what I've been writing. _**

**(4/4/09) EDIT: _Man, I don't know what I was talking about in that first chapter! It's been like TWO flippin' years... daaaaaaaay-um. And, ha, my ACL - from above - is 100% go! =D_**

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**Chapter Two: **_Di Memorie e di Avversità _

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"Mommy hurry up! I dun wun'ta be late!" Francesca cried, stomping her feet in a slight tantrum, from the front entrance.

"I'm coming Cesca, hold your impatient little horses. I knew I should have taken the downstairs bedroom," Sam muttered as she dashed down the stairs trying to zip up her jeans and slip on a high top at the same time, "Where are the damn – darn car keys?"

"I have them Mom." Bryant said from where he leaned on the doorway, twirling the keys on a finger.

Sam looked her two children up and down, "Oh, well then. What are we waiting for kiddos?"

The two looked like polar opposites. Bryant stood as all fourteen-year-old boys stood, like he was all that in a perfected bag of crisp potato chips. His 'oh-so-cool' sun glasses covered his beautiful chocolate brown eyes he had gotten from his father, as he did with his dark red hair. Bryant's fitted Yankees shirt and slightly baggy jeans showed off all the work he had done to become the great basketball player he was.

Francesca looked to be a little angel, but this was only the beginning of the day. By the end of her school day her auburn pigtails would be crooked, her pretty pink leggings most likely ripped in one place or another, and her pink poke-a-doted shirt would not be pink and white anymore.

When neither of her children moved to the house's front entrance she rolled her eyes, "Let's move out team, chop-chop." Sam nodded to the door behind them.

Bryant rolled his eyes, mirroring his mother perfectly, and grabbed the gym bag he had chosen to use as his backpack and yanked one of his sister's pigtails earning a yelp from her.

Instead of crying and wailing to her mother, like some other children would resort to doing, Cesca glared at her brother and waited until she thought she was out of her mom's range of view. Then she released her anger and struck Bryant on the side with her lunch box.

"Ow! Jeez, what's in there? Bricks?" Bryant asked rubbing his arm as he opened the passenger door to the black FBI edition SUV.

"Humph!" Cesca muttered as she climbed into her seat behind her mother's.

"Cesca, please refrain from beating up your brother." Sam said as she started the car and hooked her arm over Bryant's seat to have a better view backing up, "What will the other kids say? The boys would never come near you!" Sam smiled to herself; teachers had always been telling Tony and her that Cesca was sneaking behind the playground's slide and smooching with her 'boyfriend', Enrique Hernandez, when she thought no one was looking, "Now then. Buckles?"

A duet of mumbled yeses came from her two children.

"So who wants to be first kiddies?" Sam asked pulling to a stop at the stop light two blocks away from Santa Martina's Elementary School. The fact that the house was in the midst of town, and no more than a few minutes from most everything, had been a main key in buying the house. Though, the fact that it had been rumored to be haunted had intrigued her some too.

"Me! Mommy! Me first, pleeeeeease Mommy." Cesca pleaded from the back.

Sam laughed, "Sure thing sunshine."

As she saw her oldest child reach for the radio dial Sam cleared her throat pointedly, "Don't even Bry. I've told you I don't like Cesca listening to your crap." Her son had taken to rap music as of late, specifically music that had strong innuendos in the lyrics. Cesca had the strong habit of repeating what she heard.

"I didn't even –" Bry started but was cut off as the school came into view.

"You wait here Bry. I'll be right back." Sam said as she pulled the car into a parking place in front of the grade school, "Let's go then Ces." Sam opened her daughter's door which had been on child-lock. Francesca was only a child and to Sam that meant that she couldn't be trusted to not open the car door while she was driving.

Cesca was already unbuckled when her door opened. She jumped out of the car and started in a full sprint to the door.

"Francesca! Get back here young lady!" Sam shouted reaching into the car to get her daughter's Gap backpack and lunch box.

"Wh_aaaaa_t? I wanna go to school!"

Sam raised a naturally perfect eyebrow and held out Cesca's belongings.

Cesca gazed at her backpack and lunch, "Oh," she quickly grabbed them and took off again, "Lets go Mama, lets go! I can't be late, Mama!"

Sam nodded her head slightly in agreement, then took Cesca's hand and headed toward the school entrance.

"I'm gunna make loads an' loads of friends Mommy! I can't wait! Do you think my teacher will be awesome? I think so! To day is going to be _so _great! Do you think I …" Cesca chatted enthusiastically as they walked to Cesca's class room, " … friend be a girl Mommy? Do ya? Do ya? I hope so. I don't think I'd want a boy as a best friend. Boys are icky. Sept Bryant. An' Enrique. They ain't icky…"

Ah, Sam knew Ricky was going to be coming up in their conversations soon. After all Cesca was in _love _with him, even though he lived on the other side of the country. "They _aren't_ icky baby." Sam corrected her daughter's grammar.

Cesca let out an exasperated sound, "I knows that Mommy. That's what I just said, were you not paying any attention to me?" Cesca pouted.

"I was listening to you sweet cheeks." Sam nodded, "Here's your class room. Ready?"

Cesca stood outside room 107's door suddenly nervous, "Yes. What was my teacher's name again Mama?" Cesca asked politely staring at the door.

"It's Ms. Graystone." Sam knocked on the door and Cesca tucked her little hand into her mommy's.

"Yes?" A small young smiling woman with bright red hair and freckles that popped out from her pale skin, came to the door, "Oh! You must be Francesca Pulaski! How nice to meet you." She stuck out a baby blue nail painted hand, "I'm Ms. Graystone."

Cesca nodded her head happily. "I'm Cesca. This is my mama, Sam Pulaski." Cesca pointed up to her mother, "You can go now Mommy. Ms. Graystone and me are going to have lots of fun! Right Ms. Graystone?"

"That's right Cesca. How about you go on in and sit at the green table with Sara and Olive. We are having an art class at the moment," Ms. Graystone pointed to a green round table that had two girls who where using papier-mâché to decorate a yellow balloon, "Mrs. Pulaski it's quite nice to meet you. I'm sure Cesca will have a wonderful day here."

Sam nodded her head in agreement as she watched her daughter chat with the two other girls, "Yes. Well, I'm going to be going now. School ends at twelve-thirty, right?

"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me Mrs. Pulaski. I should get back before I have quite a mess on my hands. You know how little kids are with art projects." Ms. Graystone said laughing.

"Of course. Ga'bye Cesca!" Sam shouted into the room and laughed quietly when Cesca sent a violent glare back at her as the classroom door shut.

Children's drawings of dragons hung along the hallway leading Sam to the Office and exit. Sam stood at the main entrance looking up and down the empty hallways. A sudden memory of herself just a little bit older than Cesca's was flooded her mind.

'_Oph!' Sammy looked down at the small girl who was blocking the floor next to her, tears swam in her eyes. 'Are you okay?' The young brunette stared up at Sammy with wide eyes, 'I got pushed.' A young Sammy resisted rolling her eyes, 'I saw. It was Danny.' The wide eyes blinked, 'Danny?' 'Yah, Danny U-something. He's in the grade above me. I'm Sammy, Mrs. Kinder is my teacher. Who're you?' 'Ma-Marissa, Mrs. Kinder is my teacher too.' 'That's cool lets…'_

Sam shook her head dislodging the recollection; she had always been plagued with memories of her life in California. Especially those about her friends and "Casey." It had been years since she had spoken his name.

"Mom?"

Sam blinked and blinked again fighting back the rush of more memories, "Bry?"

Seeing 'that look' in his Mom's eyes made his gut clinch, she had to be thinking about Tony again. Still who was Casey? Bryant knew that his mom had lived here, up until she had gotten pregnant with him. That had happened here. It meant that his father was from here and that brought on a whole new topic. But it was no use thinking about his dad, all he had to do was ask – how many times had his mom said that? It always put such a pain on her face to talk about it and Bry hated to see that pain on his mother's face. No, right now was defiantly not the time worry about fathers.

Sam cleared her throat and smiled. The feeling of sadness left her as she looked at her son, "Thought you were in the car?"

"I was. Felt like looking at the school."

Sam frowned slightly, "Bry, no one is going to be coming after her here. This is a safe environment, a small town, nothing is going to happen to us here. I promise."

When Bryant didn't say anything, Sam continued speaking, "It's over Bry, he isn't going to come after us again. Trust me baby-cakes."

"You said that before, Mom."

Sam sighed, there was no way she could convince her son that her stalker was gone. What had happened in D.C. would stay with him forever, "Lets just forget about it Bry. We're starting over."

Bryant nodded, "Alright," He knew that they had moved to get away from something. Bry didn't know what it was that they were running from but he knew that whatever it was could easy find them. Thats how Tony had died; his Mom and Tony's team had been in charge of a murder witness. The safe house was found and three people lost their lives and the killers walked. Bryant knew that the same could happen to them. He just wanted it over. He wanted everything to be normal again. Bryant also wanted to play for a professional basketball team but he knew that you couldn't get everything you wanted.

"Thank you Bry," Sam said as she walked out holding the second door for Bryant so he was leading the way to the car, "So you ready to go to school again?" Sam asked as she started the car. Though it was the middle of the school year, both her children had had to study privately when the had gone out of the country for a few months because of Sam's job.

"Sure, I guess. You ready for me to go to school?" Bryant asked jokingly, "What are you going to do all day? Clean house? Or garden?"

Sam let out a chuckle, "I believe I'll start with folding the clothes."

Bryant smiled; it was common knowledge to everyone who knew her that his mom hated anything that had to do with house work.

Sam pulled up to the high school and paused the car so Bryant could get out, "You need me to come in or anything?" Sam asked as Bryant opened the door and hopped out.

Bryant raised his eyebrow.

Sam laughed, "Just checking. Have a good day, okay?"

"Sure thing Mom, see you at two-forty-five." Bryant said as he slammed the door shut and walked up to the front entry way of the school.

The horrible feeling of loneliness slammed into her as her oldest child disappeared into the school building. She stared at the scenery as she drove through town, her hometown had been updated in a lot of ways and a few new stores or restaurants were sprinkled everywhere; but otherwise it was the same to her. Looking at her watch, she noted that she'd wasted a good hour and a half cruising the town. The silence in the car was deafening without her children in the car with her.

Sam clutched at her wedding ring that she had placed on a sliver chain around her neck, after Keely had basically forced her to take it off. "Tony." She moaned, tears blurring her vision causing her to pull off the road a few residences from her own house.

The house she had bought with Tony's life insurance.

"Oh God Tony. Tony." Sam placed her head on her steering wheel and cried the tears she had been holding back for months. "Why? Why, Tony? Why? Oh God. I can't do this." Sam wanted to wail, she wanted to throw something, hit someone. God, she wanted to do so much! But felt as if she couldn't do anything without her dead husband. He had been her lifeline, her best friend.

_Savin' Me _by Nickelback started to play over Sam's phone and Sam wanted to laugh, "Zane." She sighed into the phone hiccupping.

"Hey Sam what's – Sam? You okay?" Zane asked hearing the tears in Sam's voice, "Are the kids okay? What happened?"

"It's nothing, I just – I miss him Zane. I miss him. It hurts, it hurts so bad." Sam said tears streaming down her face as her wedding ring dug into her palm.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry." Zane wanted to hold her but unfortunately he was stuck on a plane strip in D.C. with the rest of their team.

"I'm, I'm okay now I think. I just needed to cry. I'm done now," Sam took a deep breath as the feeling of depression left her as quickly as it had come, "So what was it that you wanted to talk about?"

"It was nothing, just decided to call is all." Zane knew it wasn't right but he didn't think just know would be the right time to tell Sam that their team was heading in her direction because signs of her 'stalker' had appeared again; despite Keely's glare.

"Alright then. I'm gunna have to talk to you later Zane. I gotta get before that Poe Poe boy comes out of his house." Sam said reaching into her glove box in search for some sun glasses that would hopefully hide her red eyes.

"Wait, what? Poe Poe? Sam?" She had hung up.

"The Poe Poe?" Keely asked from the seat beside Zane, "Why is Sam dealing with the Police?"

"No idea." Zane said absentmindedly tucking his phone away as the flight attendant gave him a glare.

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**_As always, tell me what you think!_**

**_ThanksMuco!_**

**_- And_**


	3. Unknown Reunion

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**Chapter Three: **_Riunione Sconosciuta _

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Sam sighed as she stared at her reflection in the rear-view mirror, "Jeez, don't I just look fantastic?"

She reached down and turned on the radio, "Misery Business" blared over the sound system and Sam smiled.

"Nothing like Paramore to cheer you up." She muttered to herself and started to mumble words along with the lyrics. She had just started her car up again just as the man who owned the lawn that she was currently occupying made his way to her car. He had cop written all over him, "Well, speak of the devil."

The man – Detective by the looks – approaching had a country boy cross Cali surfer swagger in his walk, topped off with worn in blue jeans and a lose fitting, yet form fitting, t-shirt with faded wording on it. As he knocked on her window with his knuckles, Sam noticed that freckles dotted his face slightly and his clean cut hair was more red than the dark chestnut she had assumed it to be.

"Yes, Detective?"

A eyebrow lifted into view from where it had been hidden by the sunglasses, "Lieutenant, actually."

Sam frowned slightly, she had been wrong – that was unusual for her, "Ah, pardon me then."

He studied the woman who's car was currently parked on the outer part of his yard, he thought recognized her as the Mom who had just moved onto the corner. The Fitzhugh sisters live on the right and Hope's Gully was located down a ways to the left. The back of the property faded off into the small woodland area behind. That too was also named after the young girl who had supposedly died there. His new neighbor had a pair of glasses on that looked like they belonged on the face of a 1950s highway policeman, they were obviously covering up tear stained eyes – from crying or allergies he wasn't sure. She had a mass of wavy auburn hair the was falling out of her sloppy pony-tail in stages and with her sharp cheek bones and defined nose her face looked to be that of a porcelain doll's. She had a nice tan too, which told him she either was addicted to those cancer giving beds or she merely worked outside.

Mentally shaking his head he concentrated on speaking, "Need any help Ma'am?"

Sam could see that his right hand slightly rested on his hip where he could access his weapon quickly and efficiently.

"Guess it is slightly strange for a car to be parked on your lawn, eh? I've just moved in down the street, just needed some time to think. Sorry if I've disturbed you. Though, I'm not much of a threat Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant opened his mouth to inquire what had led this lady to say something like that, surely she didn't know that his hand was resting on his firearm. Then again, she had placed him for a high ranking officer. He couldn't blame her for seeing him as a Detective, lots of people couldn't believe that a 31-year-old man – who looked to be years younger, at least that's what he was told – was a Lieutenant.

Before he could question her about it Tammy, the local dispatcher, was calling him in to go over to the High School because two stupid kids were getting a little boxing in on their school day – one of those kids being of his blood.

Sam could see his face harden as the dispatcher called through his radio that was hooked onto his belt.

"You'll have to excuse me Ma'am, duty calls." He tipped his imaginary hat and traced his steps backwards until he came upon his driveway, where he opened his red Chevy truck's door to rev the motor.

Sam watched at the roaring truck traveled the way she had just been driving from, "Hmm that would be the 'cop boy' then."

Sam slowly pulled out of the ditch where she had parked her car temporarily to only drive down a house and across the street. As she stepped out of her car she stared up at her house, it didn't look so menacing now that the outside had been picked up. In fact it was much better than the rickety house it had first been when she moved in. Now it faintly reminded her of Hudson's porch on the outside and something of Gram's old apartment on the inside. There was plenty of space for her and her children. Sam had gotten the two story house for a steal. Granted that the house wasn't all up to date and needed major repairs in some places, the house with its six bedrooms, four and a half baths, living area, comfortable sized sunroom, office about the size of the small bull pen that she had shared with her team back in D.C., and kitchen with a private nook connecting to the dining room was just right for her family.

Sam dragged herself up the steps, the house was perfect for three or more people but just one person being there seamed ridiculous. She hated being home, there was never anything to do… besides house work. Sam shuddered at the thought of anything related to 'keeping house'. Sam Pulaski was no housewife. She might not need a job but she sure as heck was going to be searching for one.

Until then there was only one thing to be done… laundry. Sam gagged as the word came into her brain. "Ready or not, here I come."

Folding the laundry was a slow and boring task. Because of the fact that Sam put it off until the last moment there was always loads and loads to wash and dry. Added on to this she would have to hang most of the shirts up because they would shrink in the wash. This being a common known fact Bry and Cesca were usually forced to wash their clothes, though said clothes usually came out a different color than what they first were. Especially Cesca's, the poor child was just that – a child.

Sam gently set the last of the shirts down on the pile of more folded shirts as though it might jump up and make all the other shirts become unfolded. And that was something she did not want to happen, "Okay, I've worked long and hard – break time!" She smiled to herself as she grabbed a bottle of light beer, "Ahh, the joys of being over twenty-one." To complete the mood of relaxation Sam walked out to her porch and sat on the bench swing that she and Bry had installed.

"Mmm," Sam sighed as she fluffed up a outdoors pillow and laid down with one foot pushing the swing back and forth; the sounds of the outside and the creak of the wooden swing her only company.

- - - -

"DUN-NUH-NA-NA-NA-NAH… DUN-NAH-NA-NA-NA-NAH… ON THE DAY I WAS BORN –"

"Wha th' frickin?" Sam sat up as the lyrics to Bad to the Bone started playing in her ear, "Jeezum Cracker," She wiped the corner of her mouth of sleep drool and ran a hand threw her hair before answering.

"Pulaski."

"Ah, hey Mom."

She yawned, "Br-_igh_? This isn't your ringer. You been messing with my phone?"

"Nah, Mom. I haven't, I'm calling from school not my phone."

"School?" Sam had to pause and think about the word, "School! Is it three already? I didn't think I slept that long, no wait. Aren't you staying for baseball practice? That would end at four, right? Two hours of practice?" Sam asked as she brushed her hair from her eyes.

"Um, baseball practice goes until five Mom, and I don't have it today anyway; but that's not the reason I called, it's only twenty after eleven." Bryant explained his voice tight.

"Then why – No. No, no, no. You got in a fight didn't you! Didn't you! _Ho pensato che lo avessimo accosentito smettessimo di combattere_!_" _Sam lectured sitting up straight on the swing causing it to slide back and forth, almost dumping her onto the deck.

"_Sì Mamma che conosco_." On the other end of the line the girl sitting next to Bryant looked up at him in awe.

Sam took a deep breath and stood, quickly ran inside to grab her keys that had been placed on the coffee table in the living room, "What is it then?" She asked coolly, in her first language – English. They had spoken about the fighting, at first it had just been her – she felt ashamed to feel it but she didn't want Tony to deal with _her _son. Then after that she'd turned her older brother's on her son, they'd set him straight. Of so she thought.

"Well, I didn't get hit –" Bryant started but was interrupted by his mother again.

"I knew it! Fighting!" Her tires squealed as she pulled out of her driveway, "_Il combattimento è stupido_ Bry. What the fucking hell caused you to punch someone?" Sam growled in her phone, slamming on her breaks a little too late and almost hitting the car in front of her. When the young woman driving the sliver mustang turned around and glared; Sam glared back and shouted some words that had Bryant muffling his speaker.

"Oh _Dio_." Bryant muttered to himself, his mother's temper was lit and there was nothing that could put it out.

"Do not **oh **_**Dio **_me!" Sam shouted at her son as she peeled out of her stopping spot.

"_Sì, Madre_." As soon as Bryant had said the word he wanted to take it back. His mom hated to be called mother to her face – even if it was over the phone. It made her feel old and strict.

"_Madre? Non dissrespect me con quel tono del bambino di voce di miei. __Non sono una certa anziana soffocante, voi ricordo quel Bryant. Le anziane soffocanti non lasciano i loro sport del gioco di bambini, rendono loro il lavoro. Le anziane soffocanti incitano i loro capretti a andare ai partiti di tè. Lo volete frantumarlo nell'anno prossimo Bryant? __Giuro Bry, voi ottengo in altre lotte che non significa baseball. Nessuno! Capisca?"_ Sam rambled off in her Italian and Bryant held his cell away from his ear.

The light brunette headed girl next to him smiled pityingly as he blushed.

"_Conoscete che cosa? Non voglio parlare con voi ora. Comunicherò con voi alla scuola. __Cristo_." Sam huffed and Bryant heard the click that told him he was now speaking to a dial tone.

"That went well?" The girl next to him smiled a bit, obviously trying to lose the awkward silence that had appeared once Bry's mom had hung up the phone.

Bryant let out a breath and smiled, "Hardly."

She smiled, "That's what I figured but I don't speak… Spanish?"

"Close – well not really, Italian. _Mamma_, she tends to speak it when I push her off the deep end." Bryant ran a hand through his hair making it stick on end, "Which I tend to do – a lot."

She smiled again, she had a nice smile Bry noticed, "What do you do to make her so mad?" her long light hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head slightly like a dog questioning its master, "I'm Chloe Sable, by the way."

"Bryant Keyes, Bry really, and my fist, uh, tends to meet a lot of faces."

"Well, Bry Really, I'll have to thank you for letting your fist 'meet' Zack's face – he's a real arsehole."

Bry lifted his eyebrows at Chloe's accent and the fact that she'd just said asshole, "Is he?"

Chloe laughed, "The biggest, I've known him now for like ever. So I ought to know."

"Hmm, must have been a fun experience," Bryant left room for Chloe to fill in what hadn't been said.

"Ya, 'e's my kinda-not-really ex sibling. When Da needed to send me off – he's apparently touring – he usually sends me to live with _Her_, nasty old witch, 'cause 'pparently she owes Da. But the hag wouldn't even let me into that huge old mansion that they live in this time. Said something about the past needing to stay buried and freaked. Truth was, I was planning to scram on out that night anyway." Chloe's voice was hardening with each word.

"Harsh, where are you know?"

"Hmm, oh. You know the Pup Parlor," though Bry shook his head Chloe continued on, "Well Holly works there, she set me up a room, I work there too."

"Sweet, I've got some dogs. I'll have to bring them by some time."

"Yea' – woah, that your mom?"

Bryant looked up to see his Mom marching into the school building in all her glory. She was dressed the same as she had been when she dropped him off. Despite the heat she wore an old hoodie, which Bryant knew belonged to Zane at some point in time, a white shirt with blue half sleeves was underneath, baggy jeans with a hole in the knee the size of Texas, and a pair of green high-tops. One of the funniest things about his mom was that no matter what the style of the time was, she always seamed to have it – even though she didn't have a clue in fashion.

"Unfortunately."

"Hmm, sucks for you."

"Oh don't worry you'll most likely be dragged into it too."

"Lucky me."

The two teenagers sat back and watched as the fired up mother stomped into the office; Chloe was sure there was blood in her eyes.

* * *

**Translations:** (_Very rough, I only speak an itty-bitty amount of Italian – please, correct me if I'm wrong!_)

I thought we had agreed you would stop fighting_ – Ho pensato che lo avessimo accosentito smettessimo di combattere_

God – _Dio_

Yes Mom I know – _Sì_ _Mamma che conosco_

Fighting is stupid – _Il combattimento è stupido_

Yes Mother – _Sì_ _Madre _

Mother? You will not disrespect me with that tone of voice child of mine. I am not some stuffy old woman, you remember that Bryant. Stuffy old women do not let their children play sports, they make them work. Stuffy old women make their kids go to tea parties. Do you want me to ground you into next year Bryant? I swear Bry, you get in any more fights it means no baseball. None! Understand? – _Madre? Non__ disrespect__ me con quel tono del bambino di voce di miei. Non sono una certa anziana soffocante, voi ricordo quel Bryant. Le anziane soffocanti non lasciano i loro sport del gioco di bambini, rendono loro il lavoro. Le anziane soffocanti incitano i loro capretti a andare ai partiti di tè. Lo volete frantumarlo nell'anno prossimo Bryant? __Giuro Bry, voi ottengo in altre lotte che non significa baseball. Nessuno! Capisca?_

You know what? I do not want to speak with you right now. I will talk with you at school. Christ. –_ Conoscete che cosa? Non voglio parlare con voi ora. Comunicherò con voi alla scuola. __Cristo._

**Q&A:**

Who is Bry's Dad? I'm sure you all know C= he looks just like his dad who appraently had _red hair_ and _chocolate eyes_ sound familiar?

Who is Cesca? Francesca would be Tony and Sam's child. Tony was Sam's hubby.


	4. The New, The Old, The Now

**(4/5/09) EDIT: _Woo! Time to meet some old friends!_**

* * *

**Chapter Four: **_Il Nuovo, Il Vecchio – L'Ora_

* * *

Chloe slumped down in her chair as if she were trying to be invisible woman – which she believed she was doing a very good job of – and Bryant cleared his throat nervously as his mom stalked over to him.

"Bryant Case, what have you done? This is your first day of school you little _monello_. Fights? Hitting? I don't like violence." Sam looked down at her son, she noticed the way his jaw was clinched tightly. A sign he was annoyed, embarrassed, or angry. He had better damn well be embarrassed, because she would not tolerate her child being annoyed or angry with her. She might be a pushover half the time when I came to her kids but she would not take disrespect – from anyone. While glaring at her oldest child Sam noticed the young skinny girl next to him, and the boy with an already swollen shut eye sitting on the other side of the room with a very dressy woman babying him. She knew that yelling like a banshee in front of all these people would come back to bite her in the butt, but she really didn't care at the moment.

"Ma, you're a – "

Sam eyes flashed, "Don't you be smart. And don't you say some comment about how you can't not be smart because I'm smart and it's in your genes."

Bry's lips twitched, "Yes, Ma'am."

"You punch that kid?"

"Yes."

Sam sighed in slight defeat, but smiled a bit too and leaned real close, "Got him good didn' yah?"

"Yup."

His mom reached up behind him as to pat him on the head - instead she brought her hand down on the back of his skull, "No violence. Alright?"

Bryant let out the air that he had unknowingly been holding in, "Yes ma'am."

Sam turned her gaze on the girl next to her son, "Who're you and what happened?"

Chloe blinked, why was Bryant's mom asking her? Clearly Chloe's confusion showed on her face, "He will either down play it or make it seam like that boy over there was going to blow up the school and if Bry hadn't punched him everyone would be dead."

Chloe slowly nodded her head, "Right. I'm Chloe Sable and um Zack – the guy over there – was being an arse to me and Bryant stuck for me."

"Heh, well you sure didn't down play it. I'll just wait for the principal's view on it then," Sam rolled her eyes slightly and slipped into the chair next to Chloe, "Man, I hate schools. Schools and hospitals. Blek, nightmare central."

Chloe was pretty sure she was in shock. Bry's mom was not what she expected. She looked like she could be Bryant's sister for one - not the prim and proper Italian woman she pictured. Instead of a tidy neutral colored suit she wore old blue jeans and worn-out hoodie that had its sleeves shoved up to the elbows. Yup, not near what she expected.

The principal's office door opened and a somewhat pudgy man stood in the doorway. His eyes stared at Sam in shock, he hadn't believed it when he had heard the last name. Keyes was a common enough name but he was pretty positive now, it was in fact Sammy Keyes sitting in the office of William Rose High School and, good Lord, she had a child who had to be half her age, "Please come in now."

Sam stood gracefully waiting for both Bry and Chloe to walk in front of her, a tingly sensation had started out of know where. Almost as if she was trying to remember something.

The group which consisted of Bryant, herself, Chloe, Zack – the boy with the black eye – , a young woman Sam assumed to be his mother, and the Principal entered the principal's office, which gave Sam the chills, to only go through another door into a conference room.

Sam blinked in surprise as she saw 'Cop Boy' and another man sitting at the long conference table chatting lightly.

"Have a seat, please," The principal pulled on the neck of his collared shirt, "I thought we would have more room in here, if that's all right." No one answered and so he continued on, "Shall we begin? All right then –"

"Mr. Cann, my baby boy did nothing to provoke that delinquent over there. He should be expelled immediately." The woman who was Zack's mother crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips.

Sam blinked twice as she studied the woman and her eyes went wide as she realized who it was exactly, "No way. That is just to funny," It was Heather Acosta. Sam bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud, her son had punched her grade school rival's son. It was purely comical and horribly ironic.

Heather's steal eyed gaze shot to Sam's, "You think violence is funny? You see Mr. Cann that is just the attitude that led to what is wrong with her son, probably lets him watch those horrible fighting shows and play those trashy video games." Heather's eyes were now back on Mr. Cann's.

Sam's eyes narrowed graphically, she took shit from criminals every time she had them in interview and she could take all the shit this bimbo wanted to give. But she didn't have to like doing so, "Heather Acosta?"

Heather's head jerked Sam's way again, "How do you know me?"

Sam let a smile that looked anything but friendly come over her face, "Oh. I used to live here as a child…"

Mr. Cann cleared his throat fretfully, "Um, yes well. Mrs. Pulaski, Ms. Acosta has already head why we're here exactly so why don't we – "

"I don't know a Pulaski." Heather glared at Sam as if she was trying to be intimidating.

"I'm sure you don't, I've married. Now, Mr. Cann," Sam smiled as she said his name, so he had made it to Principal had he? Of the High School no less, "What exactly went on?"

"Well we have two sides, both involve your son punching, Zack here. That's why we have Chloe in here – she was in the area when the fight broke out. She says that Zack had been bulling her – "

"My son would not!" Heather stood up outraged.

"Sit down Heather."

Sam looked back down at the end of the table where the voice had come from. Also where the Lieutenant and the other man sat. Why had they involved the cops? Sam didn't think it was that big of a problem.

Mr. Cann ignored the outburst, " – and that your son came up to help. Zack then proceeded to taunt Bryant which eventually led to your son striking Zack."

Sam nodded her head and turned to stare at her son, "Bryant?"

He looked over at her from were he was slouched down in his chair, "That's how it went."

Sam nodded, "I see, and how many days will Bryant be suspended?"

Mr. Cann was speechless for a moment, "Only a day, as will Zack."

While Sam accepted this Heather did not.

"My son will not be suspended because the little fiend hit him!" Heather stood and pounded on the table.

"Watch your mouth," Sam spoke quietly and clearly glaring at Heather, "You will not speak of my son like that."

Heather made a noise of frustration in her throat, "You son punched mine – he should be expelled!"

"That isn't what Mr. Cann said, now if that's all…" Sam let her voice trail off as she looked at Mr. Cann.

"Um, yes. That's all,"

Heather pushed off the table in a huff, "Come on Zackary," and left with her child traveling behind her like a puppy.

"I'll go make sure she isn't making to big of a scene," The Lieutenant stood and pushed his chair in as he made his way to the door.

Mr. Cann fiddled with his collar again, "Yes. I believe that would be a good idea."

Sam laughed quietly as the door shut behind the Lieutenant, "My God, she hasn't changed a bit. Has she?" Sam too stood up and pushed in her chair, "Mr. Cann if I could ask one question?"

He blinked slightly as he stared at Sam, he really wasn't dreaming she was really back in California. He didn't think she would have ever even think of returning after she moved to Philadelphia to live with her father's family, "Yes?"

"Why exactly did you involve the police?"

Before Mr. Cann could answer the man at the back of the room spoke, "We're required to report the fights, I'm Mr. Pratt by the way. The school counselor."

Sam did a double check on the man who had been sitting next to Cop Boy, her question forgotten as a whole onslaught of new ones arouse, "Pratt? Billy? Billy Pratt? Well, if it isn't Mr. Prankster himself. A school counselor? Aging sure hasn't done you in," If anything aging had improved his looks. He had a strong face that looked like it would hold a beard well and a lean muscled body too.

This woman's voice, Billy frowned, something about it gave him the tingles. It was familiar in a not so familiar way. She could hardly be older than 29 and that meant she would have had to have her child around the age of 14, Billy couldn't think of anyone who would have gotten pregnant – except for Heather. He flinched with guilt, Billy knew Heather's brother saw her as only an associate and nothing like family. He still couldn't think bad of her when his long time friend was Heather's brother.

Billy narrowed his eyes looking her up and down, she had said her name was Pulaski? The kid's last name wasn't the same. What was it? Kerr, King, no, Keyes! Her son's last name was Keyes! Did that mean… "Sammy? Sammy Keyes?"

* * *

**Translations: **

Brat – _monello_

**Q&A:**

Will Officer Borsch ever come into play? I'm not to sure.... Though in this One-Shot Series, he WILL be in that... lol.

* * *


	5. Growing Pains Come, Yet Rarely Go

* * *

**Chapter Five:** _Le Difficoltà iniziali Vengono, Raramente Va Ancora_

* * *

Sitting on the sidelines Chloe, Bryant, and Mr. Cann watched on as Billy let out a strangled sound and jumped up, "No. Way. Jeez, Sammy. Sammy Keyes, wow."

"Why don't we take this elsewhere," Mr. Cann interrupted the reunion. If he were Billy he would want some answers and Mr. Cann was sure that Sammy didn't exactly want he child and outsiders hearing.

Bryant glanced between the school counselor and his mom. Was this his dad? He silently laughed at himself – there was no way. His mom wouldn't have jumped up with open arms… right? Bry puzzled over that as he and Chloe were ushered out of the room by Mr. Cann.

"Well… dang," Billy ran a hand through his shaggy hair, "You're here. In Santa Martina. You went out to live with your dad didn't you?"

Sam smiled, not letting it quite reach her eyes, "Sorta. I went out to Virginia to live with my dad's family. But I suppose everyone comes home eventually." She had actually gone to live with her father's ex-wife. That of corse was a story that couldn't be told in a few minutes, not the whole story anyway…

He studied her face intently, not wanting to say something that he would regret, "Yeah, what are you up to these days?" Then it hit him suddenly, "Pulaski? You're_ the _Sam Pulaski? That Special FBI agent?"

"That's me. Hot shot FBI agent," Sam's smile shone through her eyes then.

"Wait. You're married too?"

Her smile slowly slipped off her face like melting ice off a glacier and Billy knew he shouldn't have asked that question. Some therapist he was – couldn't keep his mouth shut when he knew he should.

"I was. Tony Pulaski, he died in the line of duty."

Billy flinched inwardly, "Ah, man. I'm sorry I shouldn't have brought that up."

"You couldn't have known, its fine. So, how's your life been Billy?"

"Uneventful," Billy weighed the idea of telling Sammy about what had happened to Marissa, "Have you met up with anyone else?"

Sam shook her head, "No, the only people I've really spoken to have been a grocery checkout person named Phil, Miss Geraldine, and the cop I live next to."

Billy stopped the laugh from breaking threw his lips – barely. Sammy lived next to Casey? And didn't know it? That was a doozy, "You used to hang out with… Marissa and Holly right?" Of corse he knew that, wasn't he trying to get Holly to go out with him?

Sam's smile faltered again, "Yes."

"You haven't made any contact with them?"

"No."

Billy hesitated, time to take a different approach, "So you have two kids?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Checking up on Bry?"

"Yeah," he nodded, did she know that he knew who Bryant's father was listed on the kid's birth certificate? "Your daughter, she's what? Five? Six?"

The smile that had been coming and going broke through with a bang, "Cesca will be six next year."

"You know," Billy bit the inside of his cheek and frowned, this really wasn't any of his business, "Marissa - " Billy shut his mouth, it was probably better not to mention _that _little piece of information at the moment, " – still lives here," Smooth, Pratt, smooth, "Um, and she married Danny." Maybe he should have shut his mouth on that one too…

Sam could feel her jaw drop, "Marissa," It wasn't really any real shock though – was it? But Sam had always figured it had just been a school girl crush, something that would blow over.

Billy wasn't sure if he was supposed to add on the fact that they weren't together anymore or –

"I don't suppose that they're still together?"

At Billy's pause was all Sam needed as an answer; after all she'd been trained to read people's actions, hadn't she? And obviously Marissa and Danny were not together anymore, "Tough."

Billy nodded his head slightly, "I'll let you get back to scolding your child."

Sam laughed lightly at Billy's obvious jab at the fact that Sam hadn't been to upset at her son, "I don't exactly encourage violence, but, eh, when it comes down to it my wittle baby boy has an excellent judge of when to and when not to bring out the 'guns'."

A raised eyebrow was Billy response, typical mothers didn't respond that way to a fight involving their offspring. So either Sam neglected her children – in this case child – and didn't have a care as to what Bryant did, or she and her son were close. Very close. Billy hadn't gotten his doctorate degree by drinking booze and partying all night. So his educated self chose to believe the latter choice.

"Well Billy, hope to see ya again soon. Just maybe we could leave out my son swinging his fists, hmm?" Sam spoke absently as she looked around the office for her child.

"Sounds good, see you." Billy made a slight movement as though he were tipping his hat in a goodbye as he walked out of the office.

Sam found Bryant sitting in the same office chair he had been when she arrived. His head was leaning back up against the glass window the chair set in front of, he looked to be asleep. Though Sam wasn't exactly sure how he could sleep in such an awkward position.

"'m not asleep Mom."

Sam pulled back the hand that was about to brush a clump of hair that rested on his forehead, to then run in through her own hair, "Jeez, kid. Trying to scare me to death?"

"Not at all Ma," Bryant smiled a cheeky little smile that made him look identical to his father, "If you died, I'd have to go live with Zane. I'd go nuts Mom."

"Zane isn't _that _bad," Sam bit her bottom lip to hold in the laugh as the thought of her children living with her scatterbrained younger brother, "Besides, if you and Cesca had to live with one of my siblings I would send you off to live with Lance, not Zane." Sam smiled thinking of her brothers as she lent a hand to help her son up.

"Right. I'd rather live with Kendal than your other two rat faced siblings." Bryant shook himself like a dog as though shaking the sleepiness off him.

Sam rolled her eyes. Her baby sister was just starting college and compared with Zane, he was the most responsible person in the universe. Kenny would have lost her head if it hadn't been screwed on just right.

"Come on then," she slung an arm over Bry's shoulder, "Since you're suspended I might as well put you to work. You can finish up on washing the clothes and stuff."

It was Bryant's turn to roll his eyes as he strolled out of the school with his mother, "Sure, whatever," he slumped against the car as Sam walked around the other side to unlock the doors. She had a nasty habit of not using the remote but doing it by hand.

As his mother started up the car, Bryant checked the time and laughed, "Ma, aren't you forgetting something?"

"Hmm? What would that be?" Sam asked as she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat of the music.

"Weeeelllll, I don't suppose that here Kindergarten goes longer?"

Sam stopped her tapping, "Kindergarten?" She looked at the clock – 1:18, "Shitting heck! Cesca!"

* * *

**_Shame, shame! Bad mother, lol. _**

**_Tell me what y'all think, 'kay?_**

**_Thanks!_**

**_- And_**


	6. Meetings of Chance

**(4/5/09) EDIT: _Yo. Check out my website for pics of characters and the book cover I made for this story... or check it out if you're bored =D If you do, sign my guest book? Please? It's under "Visiting Are Ye"_

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**

**Chapter Six: **_Le riunioni di Probabilità_

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Bryant couldn't help but laugh; it probably wasn't the best thing to do at the time. Basically there were two good reasons as to not let the laughter escape his lips, 1) Cesca was his sister, he should really care what happens to her and 2) his mother might be over the whole punching-of-another-kid, but she could easily bring that back up and ground him. His mom's temper was like a match, it was sometimes easy to light – sometimes hard; but eventually it would go out. Just took a while sometimes.

Sam muttered a few choice words to herself before she swung the car around in a U-turn that Bryant new was illegal, "You shut your mouth you spawn of mine – or I _will_ ship you off to live with Lance."

Bry flinched slightly – that was a close one, but fortunately for him matches weren't going to be lighting anytime soon, "Jesus! Mom!" Bryant's eyes grew wide as his mother ran the stop sign – that luckily didn't have any other cars stopped at it.

"Huh?" His mom was obviously to focused on retrieving his sister and wasn't against breaking some laws to do so. Then again, she always drove like this.

"There was a – never mind, Mom, never mind," Bryant double checked his seat belt. They might only be a block away from the Elementary School but Bry wasn't taking any chances.

As the monster gas-guzzler of a car that they owned parked, Sam hopped out – leaving the keys in the ignition.

Bryant snorted indignantly, "Don't worry, Mom, I'll stay here in the car," Bry's shout had fallen on unhearing ears for the car door had already slammed shut, "See you then, Ma."

Sam was in a hurry like no other, not that she hadn't been late picking up her daughter before; she was just a little paranoid about it. The last time she'd been late to pick up her child; it had been when she was in surgery having a bullet removed. Cesca had been left at school for two hours past time – Cesca was a little more than scared about being left at school. Since the last time had resulted in her father's death and her mother in ICU for two weeks.

You couldn't expect a child to not come out of that without a slight issue or two. Thus, Cesca had panic attacks whenever she was left alone for a long period of time – especially when she was left alone for longer than whet she expected.

"Ma'am, Ma'am? Ma'am!"

Sam slowed her brisk walk, and back traced her steps to the office where the yells were coming from.

"Yes?"

The elder woman at the desk, frowned at Sam studying her with her dark gray eyes, "May I help you?"

Why did people ask that when they didn't mean it? "I was held up and wasn't able to come and pick up my daughter from her Kindergarten class on time."

The glare intensified ten-fold, "Humph, well, Ms. Graystone has kept her in the classroom."

Sam put on her best 'thanks!' face, or her 'Smiley Mask' as her children called it, "If, that's all Ms –" Sam shot a quick look at the name plate on the desk, " – Qualee, I'd like to go pick up my daughter."

The woman sniffed indignantly, "its pronounced Q-wAy-lEE, _not _Qwal-EE."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Comments of 'young mothers' and 'floozies' drifted out of the doorway as Sam walked down the hall.

She paused as the word floozy hit her ears… what in the hopscotch did that mean anyway?

Shaking her head, Sam continued to walk down the hallway to Cesca's classroom – and the noises that she could now hear coming from said classroom.

The laughter and shouts of joy that were coming from the classroom had Sam thinking there was a carnival going on inside the room. But as she peeked into the room; it wasn't a carnival she saw but her daughter and Miss Graystone running around the room, away from the little boy who was chasing them.

As soon as Cesca saw her mother at the door all thoughts of the chase left her head, "Mommy," Cesca yelled as she ran over to her mom.

Sam held her breath afraid that Cesca would start to become hysterical – but she didn't. She looked up at her daughter's teacher, her face a mask of confusion.

Ms. Graystone only smiled as she told the boy that they would have to stop in their game of chase.

"I hope it was okay that we played tag in the classroom. Normally I don't but when I called you to ask about Cesca staying late so I could catch her up on some of the work we've been doing…"

It only took Sam a moment to catch on to what the teacher was trying to say. And she almost fell over in thanks, "Yes, I'm sorry I didn't tell you this morning _piccolo pappagallo_."

"That's okay, Mommy. Me and Jacolby played tag with Ms. Graystone." A smile lit her face as Cesca looked up at her mother when she pointed to the skinny tough looking boy standing behind the table, "Jacolby is this many old," She held out nine fingers for her mommy to count, proud that she had made a new friend, "he's in Mrs. Gregory's fourth grade class. He had to stay late so he came to play tag with us!" Cesca's smile faded into a little pout at the way that Jacolby was acting. His, which was very pretty she had told him so, had a look on his face that Cesca didn't like. Why wasn't he smiling like earlier?

Sam studied the young boy who stood at the ready, his black hair fell over his ears and from the way he held his head, it covered his eyes; which looked to be the color of silver. From his posture Sam could read that he was agitated, she also got the feeling that he was a little rebel. She couldn't hold back her smile, Cesca had always made friends with everyone.

"Well I'm glad you - "

"Colby?" A dark haired woman rushed into the classroom, and sighed as she set sight on the boy, "Shelly, I'm so sorry. My meeting with the client was longer than I expected, I - Oh. Sorry, I hadn't realized anyone else was in here."

Sam knew her mouth was open, and was sure that she looked like a gaping fish. But she couldn't help it. After all, if she was right, and she knew she was, her best friend from her childhood was standing right in front of her.

* * *

**Translations:**

Little parrot – _piccolo pappagallo_

**Q&A:**

Say-huh? What the heck is a floozy? Its kinda like a "loose person" if you get what I mean, lol...


	7. Very Own Next Generation

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Seven: **_Molto Proprio Generazione Prossimo_

* * *

"Oh. God," Sam stared openly at the woman standing before her, "Marissa."

She glanced back at the mother of the cute little girl who had been playing with her son, did she know her? As Marissa studied the woman's face the feeling that there was something familiar about her rested in her stomach. The woman's hair was a long wavy natural looking burgundy color, with eyes that had a sparkle to them that hit a cord in Marissa's memories. Could it be? There was even a small scar on the lady's forehead that looked just like the one that her best friend had gotten when they had had a bicycle accident in eighth grade, "Sammy?"

The smile that had been threatening to break through as Marissa studied her broke though, "Got yourself a kid, Marissa?"

"Sammy!" Marissa did a little jig that had improved from her teenage days before she devoured Sam in a hug.

The two grown woman hugged had turned into two giggling teenagers, "Oh, wow, you're here. Really, really here!"

Sam crushed her body to Marissa's, "Been so long Marissa. It's fantastic to see you."

"Yeah, I haven't heard from you in forever."

Sam turned red at her comment, remembering the letters she used to send back and forth with Marissa but had eventually stopped, "I know, I'm sorry."

"Mommy?" Sam looked down at her daughter, "Who is she?"

Cesca's bluntness surprised her, Sam hadn't expected her to be comfortable with the new town to start acting like herself yet. Or at least that had been what her sister, Kendal, who was majoring in Child Psychology, had told her, "The is an old friend of Mommy's, Marissa – Marissa," Sam shot a questioning glance at Marissa, did she keep Danny's last name?

Marissa gave Sam a reassuring look, "I'm Marissa Urbanski."

Cesca stared up at her inquiring before she remembered her manners, "I'm Francesca Rita Pulaski, how do you do?"

Marissa was confused at the young child's words. Though Cesca's 'how do you do' was surprising, what shook Marissa was the fact that the child was Sammy's and that Sammy was married. She mentally shook her head as she leaned down to shake Cesca's hand, "It's very nice to meet you Ms. Pulaski."

Cesca's smile brightened to it's fullest at the way the lady said her name, "You can call me Cesca though, that's what all my friends do. But Daddy called me Franny or France, he used to say that France was the most beautiful place in the world and that he would take me there someday. So that I could see that big tower cause that's a special place. He said that he made a very special call when he was on that tower once to a very special person, but he can't take me now. Bryant said he would take me someday though."

Marissa could only blink at the way Cesca spoke, the way the kid talk about her dad was as if he was dead. And who was Bryant? Marissa glanced back at Sammy and was shocked at the grief that was on her face.

"Speaking of Bry, he's out in the car Cesca. We'd better get going." Sam plastered a smile on her face for her daughter. She didn't want Cesca knowing how much it hurt when she talked about her daddy. Especially when she spoke of the place Tony had asked her to marry him. It had been after an assignment in France and the team were taking some down time before they had to catch their flight back to the states. She had gotten a call from Tony as she stood looking over the city of France with Keely, he had told her to turn around and with the phone still to his ear asked her to marry him.

"O'tay!" Cesca had gotten her backpack and lunch box and was standing eagerly at Sam's feet ready to go. She smiled at her daughter's excitement to see her brother, who she was annoyed by half the time.

"I'll see you Marissa," Sam said smiling, ignoring the confused look that her best friend gave her, as she took Cesca's backpack from her.

"Bye Mrs. Urbainiski," Cesca called over her should as she fallow her mother to the door.

"Goodbye Cesca," Marissa's look of confusion hadn't left her face.

At the door Cesca stopped, "Oh wait Mommy!"

Sam turned back, "Yeah?"

Cesca ran over to the table where Jacolby stood, "Bye-bye, to you too Jacolby," She said as she wrapped her arms around the nine-year-old.

Sam smiled as she saw that Colby had already been affected by Cesca, "C'mon Cesca. I'm sure you'll see Colby soon."

"Alright," She squeezed him once more before she skipped over to her mother, "Mommy, why isn't Bry in school?"

As she watched them walk out the classroom door Marissa wasn't sure if she could be any more confused. Sammy had married, had a kid, then either divorced her husband or he had died, then moved back to the not-so-little-but-not-really-big town in California from Washington D.C. or wherever it was that she had moved to when they were teens. And who was Bryant? At first Marissa had thought him to be Sammy boyfriend, because Marissa knew that Sammy had only two brothers – Zane and Lance – and that out of the said brothers only Lance had kids, and they were girls. So did that mean Sammy had another kid? One who was old enough to be left out in the car? He'd have to be at least ten or eleven to do that… How old was Sammy when she had the kid?

* * *

**Q&A:**

Why'd Sammy move to DC? Well, I think it will be explained more so later... but she moves to Virginia when she gets preggo w/ Bry. She was already planning on visiting her fam. out there so she just stayed.

Where is Lady Lana? She's not really going to be talked about at all in this fic... Sorry!


	8. Car Interrogation

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Eight: **_Interrogazione di Automobile_

* * *

"Mommy?"

Sam hummed slightly to the music that was playing over the car radio, though she couldn't quite place the artist, "Yes _piccolo pappagallo_?"

"How did you know Mrs. Urbanisicki?"

"Hmm, oh," Sam shut the backseat door after making sure Cesca was strapped into her booster seat correctly, "Mommy used to live here when she was around Bry's age," Sam buckled her own seatbelt and tapped the steering wheel twice along with the beat as she waited for the road to clear so she back up.

"So Mrs. Urbaniki was your best friend?"

Sam couldn't hold back her smile at the way Cesca butchered Marissa's last name, "I'm sure Mrs.," Or was it Ms. now? In fact, was she Mrs. Or Ms.? Hmm…"Urbanski won't mind if you call her Marissa. And yes, Marissa and I were best friends when I lived here."

"Why'd you move away if you had a bestest friend?"

Bry, who had been observing the conversation, thankful that Cesca hadn't come back to the car crying and panicked, noticed that his mom's hands had stiffened on the steering wheel at his little sister's question.

How exactly was she going to answer that? Though he was acting as if he weren't listening to their conversation he noticed the quick look that Mom gave him before she answered.

Sam wasn't sure what to say, she couldn't very well tell her five-year-old that she had gotten pregnant at 15 and then went to live with her father's side of the family so that no one would know the wiser, "I… I went to go live with your Uncle Zane and Aunt Kenny… and, uh, Nana Riley."

"Not Unka Lance?"

Sam was afraid to be relieved in case it would jinx the fact that Cesca was changing the subject, "No _piccolo pappagallo_, Uncle Lance was already married to Aunt Keisha and had had Vivian."

"Oh," Cesca pondered on this fact, "So… ya were an Aunt when you were Bry's age?"

"Yes," I was also a mother, Good Lord, "Your cousin Vivian was three when I went to live in Virginia."

"But why Mommy?"

Jesus, did the child ever stop asking questions? "I'd never met anyone from my dad's side of the family and wanted to meet them."

"Oh."

Thank God, it was over. Sam had always been more comfortable being on the other side of the interrogation. Especially if it was her own child who was playing detective.

"Did ya have a boyfriend?"

Sam blanched, what was she supposed to say? Yes? No? Then again, they had never been officially bf/gf. So that made it worse didn't it? Was she supposed to lie when Bryant, who had been conceived with said kinda-boyfriend, was in the car not two feet away?

"You have fun at school kid?"

Sam slumped down in her seat visibly relaxing.

Cesca dropped the subject about boyfriends as she launched into her rambling story of her day, "I have a new best friend, and he's in Mrs. Gregory's class, and I'm in Ms. Graystone's class. Today we did craft stuff wit' paper and sticky stuff an' it got _all _over my fingers but Ms. Graystone wip'd'd them off wit' wet paper so tha' the stuff din't get _all _over cause it …" Sam looked up at her rearview mirror and saw that she could see Cesca's hands flying up around her head in dramatics as she described her day to her older brother.

Said brother was doing very well in making said little girl think that he was in tuned to her every word; but then, as Sam glanced at her son, he probably was listening to Cesca's every word as puzzling as it all sounded. As she turned onto East Wood, the street a few blocks away from the street where their house was located on, Sam saw that Bryant was looking intently at her. It was something she had never noticed about her son, he was an observer. Rarely did anything get by him, and she never gave him the credit for that.

"… since Mommy had me stay later because I needed ta catch up on things tha' I miss'ded. So we played tag! I won cause I'ma girl an' girls are the bestest at everything – tha's wha' Aunt Kenny says and Aunt Kenny is super smart cause she's going to college to get a, a, ," Cesca's face looked confused, " 'gree in kid stuff. Unka Zane says she studies to hard and needs ta lighten up – but I thought studying was good? – and Unka Lance says that the books had better be the only thing she studies. What does that mean? I thought you can only study books?"

As her youngest child sought out a breath Sam saw the time to talk, "Any takers on pizza? We need to get us some grub in our stomachs and if I turn now I can get us to Mazzio's. So…?"

"Yes Mommy! Pizza. Pizzapizzapizzapizza!"

Sam laughed, "Alright, it looks like Cesca wants pizza, what about you Bry?"

He was still looking at her thoughtfully Sam noted, but a moment later he was all smiles, "'Kay."

"Okay-Dokay, then Mazzio's is." Then again, hadn't that Mazzio's been torn down? Hmm, oh well. There'd have to be pizza somewhere in the town.

--

_parked car, east willow wood av. _

--

The _bitch_.

The fucking whoring bitch.

She thought that she could just leave like that? Move all the way to a different state is what she did, without even telling him! Did she think that he wouldn't find her? She was his. _His_! She would not just leave like that, without informing him of where she was going! How could she do that to him?

She probably thought he had forgotten about her or didn't love her anymore. That had to be the reason. He had left her alone for a year, he thought that she would appreciate it.

He'd been considerate. It had been the right thing to do. Backing away from her when her husband died, giving her time to get over it. Not that she needed any time. Because she hadn't loved the Pulaski son of a bitch, she'd only married the guy to make _him _jealous. The little girl wasn't even the SOB's. She was his, as was her mother.

And it was damned time that they remembered it.

* * *

**_OMG! Who was that?!? _**

**_._**

**_Haha!_**


	9. Night of the Boy's

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* * *

**

**Chapter Nine: **_La notte del Ragazzo_

* * *

"Love to stay and chat with you two ladies but we're a bit busy here," the bartender glared as his two friends tried to bait him with conversation. He ignored them, 'cause he knew what was good for his business. And blowing off paying costumers to listen to his buddies' conversation would not be good for _Shade's Bar and Grill_, his local restaurant. It was his favorite of the few different business that he owned, and his pet.

Billy laughed lightly taking the beer that had been placed on the bar in front of him, "Whatever you say man."

He sat there in silent with his companion watching the Yankee v. Red Sox game. Yanks were winning – as they should be.

"So…"

Casey Acosta tipped back the long nosed beer bottle as his eyes watched warily as Billy, his company for their annual Saturday-Boy's-Night-Out, sat his own Bud Light down, "So?"

Billy paused a moment, wondering just how he should word what he was going to say. But really what did it matter? No matter how it was spoken the outcome would be the same, "'Member that kid?"

"Think you could be a little more descriptive? I may be one to solve crimes but I need a tad bit more to go on than 'that kid'."

Nope this wasn't going to be easy, "The one who punched your nephew a few days back."

"_Ahh_," the kid had done what no one else would have dared to do, he respected that. Especially since the reason that the punch had been thrown was to defend Chloe. He'd always been a bit of a chauvinist, "The one that had the attitude?"

"Yeah," Oh. Wasn't that strange that Casey was saying his own kid had an attitude. Granted, he didn't know it _was_ his kid…"Hmm, the boy did have respect for his mom though, I'll give him that. Shaped right up with his mom around, didn't deny the fact that he had been involved in the fight either."

Here it was, the big whammy, "Well the Mom…" Okay, so he couldn't just come out and say that Sammy was back, but he would get Casey around to the fact.

Casey snorted, "She had a bit of an attitude too, looks real familiar though. Did I tell you 'bout the little incident I had with her?"

Incident? Billy could feel panic at the back of his throat, _what_ incident? There shouldn't be _any incidents_ they two idiots weren't supposed to have any incidents! They were supposed to get together, have their own white picket fence. Not have incidents!

"Yeah, just before I got called in by the dispatcher there was this huge black SUV, swear to you looked just like one of those gas-guzzlers that the chums at the Bureau drive. Anyhow, this car has parked out on my lawn by the street, being the people serving man I am I went out to check on the driver. It was our dearest Mommy."

At Billy's look of shock, one that Casey misjudged, he only nodded, "I know, strange. When I get to she's got these sunglasses on, which are covering up her blood shot eyes. She'd been talking on the phone – hung up right before I got to the car, figure her car broke down and she was whining to the tow truck. But when I get to the car she's asking me how I'm doing in this ruff cool voice, sounded like raw sex. Man," Casey sighed as her voice played threw his mind.

Billy's smile shone, this was a helpful fact.

"Well, she's talking to me, guesses I'm a Detective, which was better than being called 'Officer' but really. I didn't have my badge out, or my gun – which is another thing I had my hand on my fire arm and she made a comment about 'how she wasn't a threat'. What the hell did that mean?" Casey shook his head as he swallowed another mouthful of cold beer, "Then to find her at the meeting. Mother of that kid. Man," After thinking about it, Casey added: "Lives by me too. That old house that the little girl who drowned lived, the Howard house. I think the property line goes over to Hope's Gully."

Billy could have fallen off his bar stool, he hadn't known they lived by each other. Though it was probably in Bryant's file he hadn't ever thought to look at the address, "Well, I can tell you how she guessed all the police business."

"Really," Casey's ears perked up, "How?"

At Casey's suspicious glance Billy chuckled, "She's a FBI agent."

Shock shone on the Lieutenant's face, "What?" Then he thought about it for a moment, "Makes since though I guess."

Boy did it ever, "Yeah, you'd recognize the name I'm sure. Sam Pulaski?" Here it was, they were down to the final lap.

Casey nodded thinking about the name, "Lived up in D.C. I think, she was part of some big FBI team. Specialized in missing kids, though, that's only what was public. They a 'secret' missions I'm told. Rumor was that they were high class, top security clearance, had their pasts wiped clean too, I think," Something was bugging him… a piece of information, "Didn't they have someone killed in the line of duty…" That was it, "Yeah… yeah they did didn't they?"

"Yes, it was her husband. Moved back here to get some peace," tricky ground now, "She said that she wanted to bring her kids home…" Billy trailed off studying Casey to see if he would catch onto what he was trying to say.

Move back? Kids? Home? Casey wasn't sure what question to ask first, "She's got more kids than that boy?"

Billy coughed, oh boy, "Uh-huh. Little girl, five-years-old I think she might have said. That's, uh, that's the husband's daughter, the boy, Bryant, he's someone else's."

"Oh," Wonder who? "So she lived in California before?"

Again with the coughs, "Yup, born here in Santa Martina. Moved away when she was… when she was around, uh, fourteen."

"Hmm…"

"Went to live," More coughs, "with her father's family in Virginia I think."

Casey's eyes narrowed, "You okay there Billy?" What was he going on about? "Catching something all of a sudden?"

Christ! Hadn't he spelled it out for him? Why wasn't Casey understanding what he was saying! He was a Lieutenant wasn't he?!

Billy let out a annoyed huff of air and threw down the money for their beers, as it was his turn to pay.

Casey noticing this, stood, "We turning in for the night then?"

Billy grunted and headed toward the exit, "Come on."

"Right," Casey eyed his friend, swinging his jacket on as he fallowed him out the door, calling out a goodnight to the bartender, their long time friend, Nick.

"Well?" Casey asked inquiringly as the two stood at their cars, Casey at his truck and Billy at his motorcycle.

Billy fidgeted, running his hand through his hair several times before turning to face his friend, "The Pulaski woman…"

Casey narrowed his eyes once again that evening, what exactly was Billy getting at? "What about her?"

He sighed, time to come out with it, "Ya, know how I was saying she lived here when she was younger?"

"Sure."

"That bring anyone to mind? Anyone who left to go live with her _father's side of the family_?"

What the fuck was Billy talking about, "Man –"

"– It's Sammy, Casey. That's who she is. Sammy."

* * *

**Q&A:**

Woah! Wtf? Who was that at the end of Chappie 8? Ha! You will never know! Mwahahaha! - Nah, it'll come up soon enough...


	10. Secrets Found

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* * *

**

**Chapter Ten: **_I segreti Hanno Trovato_

* * *

He couldn't move his mouth; even if he could Casey doubted that words would come out. Do to the fact that his vocal cords were stunned silent. What exactly was Billy saying? Sammy was back? Except she wasn't Sammy… she was _back_. No, no, that couldn't be right. He remembered when she left, well per say when he'd been told that she'd left.

She hadn't even fucking told him that she was leaving – well she had, she'd said that she was leaving in a few weeks to visit her half siblings who lived out East. He'd known that she would be leaving but he hadn't known that she was never coming back. The memory of the gangly teenager that he had been plopped itself in his head. The happiness that he had when they had been together, he'd foolishly thought that they'd somehow stay together forever.

Billy had to be lying, there was no way that she would come back to her home now all these years later.

No way.

"Stop fucking with me Billy," his words came out as something in between a growl and a croak.

Billy rubbed hand over his mouth, wishing that he hadn't said those words. Hadn't needed to. But the two childhood sweethearts were bound to run into each other soon, they lived by each other for Christ sake! "It's true Casey; we talked after that meeting at the school –"

That was right, Casey brows furrowed, after he had calmed Heather somewhat he had waited for Billy in the office. When Principal Cann and the two teenagers had come out Bil – "Christ sakes she's got a fucking kid!"

Billy stared dumbly at his friend, hadn't they been talking about that? "Yeah," Hadn't this man gotten a badge for solving things? You'd think he would' have remembered what the conversation had been about for the last twenty minutes – then again, it was a pretty large whammy.

"A kid, a kid," it was a constant beat in his head, "A fucking kid. Jesus, a kid." Sammy, Sammy Keyes had a kid. The picture that came to his mind wasn't of a young woman with an after-sex sounding voice but of a small skinny teenager and Casey couldn't make his mind accept that that little girl had a child, "Two. She's got two," Jesus, she had two kids? "How the hell did that happen?"

"Intercourse."

At the stony glare that he received from Casey, Billy knew that now was not the time for jokes.

"Fuck, Billy. She's got two _kids_," Casey slid down the side of the car until the gravel of the pavement met his butt.

Billy watched silently as Casey leaned against his truck's tire, "Listen, Casey, why don't you talk to her," Billy checked his watch, "It's only a quarter past eleven, and it's not a school night so I'm sure that she's up – then again Bryant might be up also… So uh, you might want to wait to go over during a school day."

Casey nodded dumbly, "Yeah… Yeah, I will."

His eyes look lost, Billy thought as he offered a hand to help Casey up, "Then again, maybe not tonight?"

Casey shook his head determinedly, "I'm good. I won't be rash or anything – there will be no rashness, no worries. 'Kay?"

Billy sighed, wasn't much he could do to stop Casey now that his mind was set, "Yeah, alright… Just… I'm sorry; I thought you should know before, well just before."

"Mmhnm."

"I'll see…" Billy suppressed a sigh; Casey was already driving off, "you." As he mounted his motorcycle Billy tossed around the idea of calling Sammy to warn her but reluctantly decided not to. He had already meddled too much and there would probably be hell to pay.

Instead he'd head on over to Holly's, he thought he recalled Holly saying that Chloe was spending the night at a girlfriends house and that she would be alone at the house.

--

_alley beside the bar_

_­­_--

He stood in shock by the open door of his car. Not sure if his ears were working quite right. Because if he had heard what he thought he had heard… and he _knew _that he had heard correctly. A storm of rage was thundering threw his body, they had been talking about _his _woman! His! How dare they! They spoke as if they knew her, or had known her.

He pulled the door to his rented car open violently. So this had been her home? Where she had grown up? He recollected that she had lived in a small California town when she was younger; he hadn't thought that Santa Martina was that town. But apparently it was, and that meant that the older son of hers, the one who had walked in on him while he had been watching _his _daughter in her pretty lilac crib only a few days after she had been born – the brat, had a father around the town.

From what he had heard the two men who had been speaking had known his Sam when she'd lived in the small town of Santa Martina.

And it looked like he had just found a possible sperm donor.

His crackling laughter floated out of the car's open window as he sped down the road, it was time to set his plan to reclaim his woman in motion.

--

_shuttle bus; airport_

--

"I don't see why you didn't tell her, Zane. She'll probably be pissed to see us all just show up."

Zane opened an eye to stare at his partner, "'m tryin' ta sleep 'ere Kenly," the woman would _not_ shut up about his not telling his sister about them arriving in California.

"I'm just saying. I don't particularly like being on her bad side, Sam has a temper on her and I don't want to be caught in it," Keely glowered when Zane fell a sleep.

"We'll just have to make sure all the blame falls on his shoulders."

Keely looked across the small bus at the only other member of their five person team who was awake, "Yeah but still, I feel bad about just showing up all surprisingly."

Dr. Donovan Declan let his lips turn up into a smile. Keely had always been a worrier, but she got the job done and that was the reason he had handpicked her for his team, "I'm sure Samantha won't hold any grudges. It's best you try for some sleep Keely, if our information is correct then we might have some sleepless days ahead of us. Plus, this shuttle ride will be another hour."

Keely nodded reluctantly, "Alright Doc, 'night," She pulled her iPod out of her backpack so she could listen to something other than the strange bluegrass music that the driver was playing, preferably the southing sounds of ocean waves hitting the surf.

The time she had on the shuttle were probably going to be the only time to herself she would have until Sam's stalker was caught… and who knew when that would be.

* * *

**Q&A:**

What did that guy mean by calling Cesca and Bry his? Oh, welllllllll... The "Evil One" actroly hates Bry. Like despises him, yep yep. The "EO" is delusional too and thinks that he "made" Cesca w/ Sam - if you get what I mean... haha.


	11. Meeting You

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* * *

**

**Chapter Eleven: **_La riunione Lei_

* * *

"Goodnight _piccolo pappagallo_," Sam kissed the nose of her little girl, "Sleep tight, and don't let the bedbugs bite."

Cesca formed a pout on her face the looked identical to her mother's, "I du'wunna." Even as she spoke her innocent eyes drooped.

"Oh, I know, but the faster you go to sleep the faster tomorrow will come and then you'll be over at Olive's in no time at all," Sam patted the Princess sheets the covered her daughters body as she stood from the place on the bed she had been sitting on.

A mumbled argument came from the child, but Sam was at the door already, "G'night Francesca."

"Night-night," Sam could hear the yawn in Cesca's voice, "Mommy?"

"Yes?" Sam asked as she turned off the light, making the animals made of lights dance on the wall.

"Bry," She yawned, "Bry needs ta check for – for monsters," A third yawn came dragging out the words 'monsters'.

Sam shook her head, Cesca refused to sleep unless someone – some _guy_ – checked for the creepy-crawlers of the night. Since Bryant was the only male in the house he had been dubbed the white night, "Sure thing _piccolo pappagallo_, he'll be right in. Go to sleep now." And with that she shut the door. Then promptly stepped on Cesca's Siamese cat's tail – Pepperoni – which caused a ruckus that brought the dogs running up the stairs barking up a storm.

"Wonderful," Sam ran a hand through her hair, "Stupid cat," Her glare flickered away as she looked at the small kitten, it was just too cute. Rolling her eyes, Sam opened the door and let the meowing kitten enter her daughter's room.

"Spike, Shaska – quiet," At her order her two expertly trained huskies shut their snouts instantly. That left the stupid greyhound of Bryant's - Smallville, "Shush you stupid dog," In response the black speckled dog barked happily before turning tail and running down the stairs full speed, "Idiot dog," Her muttering was directed at the huskies that she had trained since their birth, "I guess I can't blame it though, the poor dog's name is Smallville. What person names their dog _that_?" Spike yipped happily nudging Sam's hand so that she would bend down to rub him, "Then again I did name ­_you_ after a British vampire…"

Shaska gave both Spike and herself a look before tossing her tail as she walked leisurely down the stairs, turning at the landing to let out a sharp bark before flicking her tail and trotting down the stairs.

Sam laughed at the female dogs actions, "Well Spike old boy, you'd better fallow your woman, wouldn't want to get kicked out of the doggie house would'ya?"

Spike jumped up to place his paws on her chest, giving her face a lick, before scampering down the steps after Shaska.

Sam shook her head as she fallowed after her two dogs, walking under the dinning room's arch as she made her way to the sun room. Where her cat Dorito sat at the sill of a window watching the outside world, "Hey, baby, you missed all the action upstairs. So did P.C., but he'd never make it up those stairs."

The "P.C." she was referring to was the monstrosity of a cat, it was about the size of a schnauzer maybe bigger, that Bryant had found back in D.C. named PuddyCat.

"Talking to the animals again Mom?"

Sam stood to see Bryant standing in the doorway of the back kitchen entrance, "Why do I smell burnt stuff?" Her eyes zeroed in on the bag of bed in his hand, "Wha'da'ya doing?"

Bryant rolled his eyes, _he_ wasn't the cause of the God awful smell. _That _had been her fault, "The smell would be the leftover… something, that you attempted to cook and since _you_ didn't clean it up afterwards, we now have a stinky kitchen. Kitchen work, plus you, equals bad. You should know that."

"I don't particularly like my child lecturing me," Sam glared, hands on her hips, "And you didn't answer my question."

"Makin' some grilled Mac N' Cheese."

"Ahh," Sam peered into the kitchen over her son's shoulder, on the stove was a pot full of what she believed to be the said Mac N' Cheese, "Well you sister would like you to rid her room of the boogie-woogie-man, so…"

"'kay, watch my food, yell if it starts boiling over," Bryant watched his mom enter the kitchen and pick up the spoon he had in the pot, "'ey! No touchy!"

Sam yanked her hand back like a scolded child. Wasn't she supposed to be the scolder, not the scoldee? "Go. Francesca needs to get to sleep," She glared as her son eyed her for a moment, "Don't worry, I won't burn down _my_ house, skedaddle."

Bryant's soft laughter remained in the doorway, even as he traveled up the stairs. By the time Sam suspected he made it to the top of the stairs the water was boiling, "Humph, thinks I can't make food. Lived of the damn stuff for the nine months I wasn't for him to be born. Just like his damn father, eats the stupid cheesy noodles all the time," Sam mumbled a few more choice words as she dumped in the Velveeta noodles and packaged cheese.

She fumbled with the small hand held timer as she pulled a Summer Ale from the refrigerator, finally setting the numbers to the right time she stuck the magnetic timer to the microwave that was above the stove. As she walked out of the room she popped the cap off of her beer with the help of the match holder/bottle opener that was mounted on the wall.

Stepping out of the sunroom's French door's she admired the quiet woods that made her side yard. Sighing lightly at the thought of everything she left behind when she moved, Sam turned to her right heading to the front of the porch the wrapped around the side of the house.

But instead of walking to the front of the house, she froze in her tracks.

There leaning against the railing of the old wooden porch was her neighbor who was a cop. Who she _still_ didn't know the name of.

"Um, hello," A slow and uneasy smile came over her face.

"Does he ever eat it with Salsa?"

Sam looked at the Lieutenant in question, had she heard right? "Sorry?"

"Does he ever eat it with Salsa?"

* * *

**Q&A:**

None? Ahhh, well. Haha.

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**_Okay, so y'all hate me._**

*****Sigh*****

**_Sorry! I know that, that really means nothing to you all though... _**

**_Please, tell me what y'all think!_**

**_- And _**


	12. Shot of Obsession

**_OMG! Here it is!_**

**WARNING: This story (_chapter_) contains BAD language. I personally think that some of this language is called for, what with what all happens in this chappie... **

**(Check out my Homepage for pics or check out my forum! ^.^ Thanks!)**

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**Chapter Twelve: **_Il colpo di Ossessione_

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It took her a few moments to process what exactly has was saying. 1) because it was the strangest question and 2) he was looking – and sounding –suspiciously like… _him_. She almost laughed out loud at her own reasoning, really, why would he be on her porch of all places? Sam could recall so many talks of how he was leaving Santa Martina as soon as he graduated. Why would he stay to become a cop? It was just plain laughable.

"Huh?" Her voice was cracked from the laugh Sam had held back.

His hands fisted in anger and frustration, how could she play dumb like this?

"I know who you are."

Sam's thoughts immediately went to the idea that her cop neighbor was the man who had been stalking her a year ago. As soon as the idea zipped into her mind, it zipped right out. She wasn't being rational was all. There was no way the same man who had stalked her for over a year was the same as her neighbor. He was a cop for Christ's sake.

"I think you should go now." Though her voice and face showed as much emotion as a rock. Casey noted that her throat contracted with a nervous swallow. He wasn't an idiot; he'd made Lieutenant after all.

Something was scarring her – and he would be damned if he was the one who put that fear in her. What did she think he was going to do? He wasn't barbaric, it wasn't as though he'd start swinging at her. As much as he wanted to do so.

The second time that week Sam was dumbfounded.

_"Does he ever eat it with salsa?"_

What?!? Why would he even _ask_ such a question? What did her neighbor know about Mac N' Cheese with salsa? Sam didn't want to think about these questions for in her mind she knew the answers.

And it all made a little more since in her mind, it was why he'd been so sure that he would calm down Heather. It was because they were fucking siblings. Hell, his dispatcher had even said that one of the kids in the fight was "blood," how did she _not _catch onto that? Was she completely idiotic?

Seeing that she was in a bit of a state of shock he took advantage. He was in front of her before she knew it.

Unintentionally Sam took a step back with each of his advances, some how they wound up with her being pressed against him and the porch's railing.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"_Cristo maledetto_, Casey!" She wasn't sure if she wanted to run at him or run away, so she just stood there. Tears shining in her eyes.

Casey stared down at her. _Sammy_. His own eyes burned with tears, here she was in front of him after fifteen years. God. He wanted to shake and kiss her at the same time. Yet, both, he knew would frighten her.

Her hands were resting on his chest now, shaking, "Ca–Casey? Mamma mia, Casey. Oh, Casey, Casey!" She couldn't hold her self back, Sam launched herself at him, "_Casey_!"

Awkwardly, yet like they'd done it millions of times before, Casey held her in his arms. His arms were stiff, second by second they slowly loosened their tense-ness and relaxed, "He's mine – Isn't he?"

Sam pushed away from him, very aware that despite her training and strength it was – him who let her go, and ran a hand through her hair as was her habit, "I can't do this now Casey. I can't. Not with –"

"Yo, Mom, you want any grilled Mac N' Cheese?" Bry asked as he tore a bite out of the pumpernickel/Mac N' Cheese/Salsa sandwich in a way that was almost savage, "I used the last of the salsa, so we need…uhh… more," He stood at the door surprised to see the tears on his mom's face, tears he was sure that weren't from frustration as they usually were, and the anger that was on the Lieutenant's face, "Ma?" He questioned her as he walked out to stand on the porch, his eyes warily on the man who stood beside her.

The man he suspected to his father – he might have only been in Santa Martina for only a few months, but Bry knew wasn't an idiot. He'd seen how his mom reacted when ever spoken to about or by their neighbor. The same man Chloe had called Lieutenant Casey Acosta, why wasn't his own middle name Case? But at the moment it didn't matter much if the Lieutenant was his father or not, Bryant knew that the tears had been caused by him and he didn't particularly care for anyone making his mom cry. Blood or not.

"What the fuck did you do to her?"

Sam inhaled at her son's language and bit her trembling lip.

"I would have thought that your mom taught you to respect your elders." Casey's own words made Sam bite her lip harder – this wasn't going well. She didn't want them fighting. They were supposed to love each other. She should have known nothing ever came out all butterflies, rainbows, and unicorns.

"I don't respect fuckin' dickheads –" Sam again took in a sharp breath, "– who make my mom cry."

They were face to face now, son against father. Their height was nearly the same, their silhouettes practically identical.

"Bry…" She hated it, _despised _it, but her voice was shaky with her tears, "_Please_," Sam sighed as she rubbed her eyes like a young babe, ridding them of tears, "Bry, could you just… Casey, I need –"

Sam was once again interrupted, but this time it wasn't by a child but by the blasting sound that came from a shotgun.

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**_It's fuckin' 3:00 in the morning. Bahh. You people better love me! lol, jk, jk!_**

**_*_**Zombiefied**_*_**

**_Yeah - To Loriot - Sammy getting preggo at a young ago didn't sit right w/ me either, thats why I wrote this, lol. I wanted to see what exactly would happen if she did... But still, it IS very strange!_**

**_Anyhoodles, I'm going to go and hide from the mob w/ the pitchforks! (That is, if there is even a mob left who likes this story - for all I know y'all could be gone! Please don't be gone!)_**

**_- And_**

**_PS: I also promise to respond to ALL reviews! I stopped doing that and would like to smack myself, y'all are taking time to give me feedback. I shouldn't be a bitch and not respond like I was doing. So I'm SUPERDUPERLY sorry! I will PM back or whatever. _**

**_Tell me what you think? Please?_**

**_Thanks!_**


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